Of Ages Past
by Star in Ruin
Summary: Slightly AU. In Moria, the Fellowship encounters one who history did not record. However, their breif relationship will be the cause of much pain in years to come. ON HIATUS.


Author's Note: Mae govannen! (smiles nervously) Well, this is my first fic on the site, so let's find out if I am worthy to play with the characters of Tolkien himself, shall we? Oh, and huge thanks to Exile of Numenor, who was brave enough to risk her time and efforts on a rookie like me.

Disclaimer: Quite obviously, any recognizable places or characters are not mine...yet. (grins) For now they belong to Tolkien. I write this only for entertainment purposes and no profit is made. Note also that some dialogue is taken directly from the book and belongs to Tolkien (weren't the characters enough?). No disrespect is intended in its use.

Warning: Some angst, violence, and slightly AU

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**Chapter One: Encounters in the Dark**

Legolas did not like caves, he did not like Shadow, he did not like stone; and when trapped in the caverns of Moria, with a threat of great Shadow hanging in the air, he was quite the distraught Elf. He hid it well enough to be sure, but Aragorn had known him too long. He could easily read the subtle suggestions of tension about the prince.

Silently, he debated if he should speak with the Elf, and if so, what would he say? Should he try to lighten the mood, or consult his friend's fears? So lost was he in the realm of thought that he promptly walked into the back of said Elf. Legolas whirled around to find that the source of his surprise was merely the distracted Ranger.

"_Díheno nin_," murmured Aragorn.

Legolas cocked his head and raised one elegant eyebrow, very much reminiscent of Elrond, but Aragorn merely shook his head, saying, "_Renio-ind nin_." The pair's attention was diverted as the wizard spoke.

"I have no memory of this place at all!" cried Gandalf, standing rather uncertainly under the three-way arch. "I am too weary to decide," he sighed, shaking his head. "We had better halt for what is left of the night. You know what I mean!" he added as Pippin opened his mouth to utter what would have been, most likely, a remarkably foolish comment. The Hobbit snapped his mouth shut with a sour expression, yet heedless, Gandalf continued. "In here it is ever dark; but outside the late Moon is riding westward and the midnight has passed."

Unsurprisingly, as a safe place to rest meant a safe place to eat, Merry and Pippin were the first to make their way toward the wide chamber to the left of the great arch.

"Steady, steady," called Gandalf. "We know not what awaits us in the shadows. I will go first." And so he led the way in, the younger Hobbits immediately behind.

Aragorn smiled slightly at the Hobbits' antics as he followed the single file, though once inside he frowned. Vaguely, he heard Gimli say something about a guardroom, but his own thoughts lay elsewhere. The feel of the room was different, but he was unable to identify what it was that made it so. Somehow, the darkness seemed less oppressive.

And so it was that Aragorn sensed rather than saw Legolas step up beside him. "What do you feel?" the mortal asked.

Legolas shook his head as though he dared not put into words what he felt. "Darkness," was all he could manage. He moved forward and began to make a bed from his blankets, though Aragorn had little doubt that he would not find sleep this night.

Although well aware of his friends inner turmoil, he could not help but roll his eyes. "Really? Darkness? I wonder why?" He glanced at the Elf, who looked taut as the bow he gripped in his hand. "_Saes, mellon nin,_ you are not that difficult to read. I, too, feel the Shadow...yet it is less here, can you not tell?"

The conversation was interrupted as an eerie, echoing sound rang throughout, like a bell which was rung ere the hour it marked arose.

Every head turned to Pippin, and before Gandalf uttered a word to break the unnerving silence and scold the over-inquisitive Took, Sam cried out:

"Gandalf! Look!" The loyal gardener was pointing to something, something enveloped in the softest shimmer of light, much like Legolas, yet visibly duller.

Leaving Legolas' side, the Ranger stepped forward and was shocked by what he saw. A body-- a live body; an Elf's body.

"Well?" cried Pippin. "What is it?"

"Patience is a valued virtue," said Borimir, who had happened to catch sight of the body. "We are not leaving so soon. Another moment shall not be the world's end."

Aragorn ignored the exchange behind him and examined the body. It was still alive. Not 'it' - rather, 'she'. Her skin was frighteningly cold to the touch, but when the Ranger held a knife before her lips a faint mist appeared. Weak, too, was the pulse in her wrist, with much time between each beat. Yet, she lived.

"Estel?" called a fair voice.

"Aye," he said. "She lives. It seems almost as if her body has sent itself into a state of not unlike sleep...but deeper. Her breath and the very warmth of her blood seems to have withdrawn nigh unto the point of death."

"Can she be revived?" The voice sounded slightly more pained to those who listened for it. But next it was a rather gruff voice which asked:

"Who is this 'she' we speak of?"

Aragorn sighed. "An Elf. Or rather, an elleth."

He looked up as he heard Gandalf approach. "Can you help her? It brings us much sorrow to see a Firstborn as such."

"Maybe," said the Wizard. Laying a hand on the elleth's once fair brow, he closed his eyes and whispered a few words in the sweet tongue of Elves. They waited. Naught. Again Gandalf did speak, but nothing happened.

"Is she beyond our help?" said Legolas, appearing beside the Ranger. The Ranger showed not the slightest hint of surprise. When one grew up in Imladris, one got used to the stealth of Elves.

"I most certainly hope not. No Elf deserves a life in perpetual dark," came the reply.

The Elven prince tentatively rested his slender fingers on the elleth's cheek as again were the words of Elvish uttered.

And slowly, very slowly, did the green orbs open. Cloudy, they were, but aware. She opened her mouth as if to speak, but closed it again around Legolas' offered water flask. Little by little, the water was consumed, and Aragorn helped her into a sitting position from whence her surroundings could be seen.

"Who are you?" she whispered, for now the entire Fellowship had gathered to catch a glimpse of the elleth.

"_A mellon_," said Legolas. She looked at him in surprise as he continued, "Would you tell us your name?"

"I am known as Isilwen."

"And I am Legolas."

Isilwen frowned. "He who was a warrior of the Greenwood, and of keen night-eyes?"

Legolas laughed lightly, a welcome sound to all. "Nay, my lady. That is not I."

"But, who are you?"

"The son of Thranduil," he replied softly.

"Thranduil...? But, is he not the King of Greenwood?" Utterly confused the maiden seemed, and Aragorn thought it best the two converse in private. He stepped backward, ushering two curious hobbits away from the scene. He kept a careful eye on the Elves as they spoke, their voices so light that none but they were privy to each other's thoughts. After some time he hesitantly approached, and seeing Legolas' head nod in approval, he made himself and his party known to the bewildered stranger.

"Pardon, Lady. I am known as Estel, and we are but nine companions. All stories will be told when you are properly tended to."

The elleth complied to cooperate with the Ranger's administrations. She seemed to have none of the stubbornness most of the Fair Folk possessed and she was ever quiet, not speaking unless spoken to. Curiously, as was noted by most of the Fellowship, she did not smile. Not even did her eyes twinkle at Merry and Pippin's antics.

Aragorn did not question her about her history, but carried out his task in silence. Indeed, the elleth was in a sorry state. Numerous lacerations covered her thin limbs. What few movements she could manage without pain were lacking the usual grace of the Firstborn, and her shadowed eyes seemed to light only when they fell on the Prince of Mirkwood, who had stayed close to the pair since she had been revived. What appeared to be burn marks and whip lashes also marred what should have been the flawless skin on her back. Aragorn grimaced; her left wrist was also badly sprained.

When he was done, the Ranger sat back and said, "You are fortunate to be alive. May I inquire as to how you came to be in such a state? What last we heard was that only Dwarves resided in Moria."

"I cannot remember much... only..._beleg gwath_."

Legolas seemed to stiffen at her words, but before anything could be said by the Elf, Aragorn said:

"Samwise, would you bring some bread here?" The elleth was naught but skin stretched over bones. However, at the sight of food, Isilwen turned her golden head away.

"Nay," she said. "I do not think I could handle it."

"_Saes_, you need to eat if you wish your strength to return," said Aragorn. The elleth seemed slightly surprised at the Ranger's lapse into Elvish, but she did not comment. Finally, though, at the human's gentle persistence Isilwen ate. However, none were surprised when Legolas ate even less than she. It seemed that he could find no relief from the ever present Shadow, and also that he felt it more heavily than the elleth.

The more companionable silence was broken by none other than Pippin, for whom it was impossible to keep quiet for too long.

"Frodo, are you going to eat that?" All eyes turned to the Ringbearer. "Leave him be, Pippin!" said Sam, glancing worriedly at his master, who had seemed to have eaten hardly anything. "He needs to keep up his strength, you know."

"Indeed he does," said Gandalf. "And to do that, one must obtain some sleep," At this, he cast a meaningful glance at Legolas. "So, I say we all take some rest. Oh, yes-- and Pippin--" The Hobbit turned to him expectantly. "--You may take first watch for the foolishness of the pebble act."

With Aragorn's assistance, Isilwen rose slowly to her feet and leaned much on Aragorn as they made their way painstakingly to the blankets Legolas had already laid out. The elleth's weight was like a feather as she used the Ranger for support, but her movements were hampered by weakened muscles.

As he lay her down, Aragorn called to Legolas, "You had better get some sleep as well." His only reply was an intense Elven glare, which he met easily. Another perk about growing up in Rivendell -- Aragorn had grown immune to all but the worst of the prince's stares.

When it became clear the Ranger was not going to give up an inch of terrain, the Elf relented. "I will try." Aragorn sighed, but knew it was the best he was going to get.

And so, the Fellowship settled down to sleep, but for Pippin who kept watch, and Legolas, who had drawn the line at actually laying down on his blanket. So it was that he heard Gandalf stir suddenly. He moved to the youngest Hobbit and said:

"Come, Pippin. Take some rest. I will keep vigil."

And Pippin did as he was told, leaving Legolas with nothing to occupy his attention. His thoughts again strayed to the almost overwhelming darkness that thickened the air. He did not know what exactly it could be which caused this darkness, but of a few things he was sure:

Something stirred in the Mines of Moria. An ageless shadow would make itself known before the end.

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**Dehino nin - forgive me**

**Renio-ind nin - my thoughts wander**

**Saes - please**

**Mellon nin- my friend**

**A mellon - a friend**

**beleg gwath - great shadow**

A/N - This story is not meant to be a romance. Sauron will rise again and forge the Ring anew before that happens. ; )

Well? What did you think? Drop in a review! Give me your thoughts, I could use them. And I could also promise some angst coming up. Oh, and please excuse my meager attempts at elvish. I'm rather new at it. If anyone has some links they would recommand, they would be more than welcome. So would constructive criticism. Flames just mean you read the story.


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